


Heartbeat

by raelee514



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Gen, M/M, trigger warning for mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: Shocked by a letter, Jimmy Kent rushes to Downton Abbey.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place directly after Thomas' suicide attempt. Warning for discussion of the act and wounds inflicted.

Jimmy was knackered. He’d been working all day, his boss in the London house he was currently working in was worse than Carson. He thought he never see the day. He was trying desperately to find another job. But jobs in service while still around were short and usually required impeccable references. His weren’t really up to snuff and he knew it. Was wracking his brain most days as he did menial tasks trying to come up with something else he might be qualified to do. And he kept falling short. He knew how to pleasant to look at while serving fish and how polish silver and open a door. Carry things and dress a gentleman. He knew little else. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to do anything else. All he knew was his boss thought little of him, didn’t seem to appreciate that he was good at the job and was worse than Carson. 

He stripped down to his underwear and sat on his bed. Wanting to enjoy the feel of having his livery completely off his body. His eyes strayed to the mail that he’d been handed earlier in he day and had tossed into his room during a quick break between breakfast and luncheon. 

The first letter was from his cousin and he just threw it on he bed. The second though had familiar neat writing and he found himself grinning. He hadn’t lied to Thomas when he said he wasn’t good at letter writing. He did however try, he sent him maybe a letter once every three months or so. Thomas had written him more regularly but the past year and half he’d only gotten one or two. It bothered Jimmy when he thought about it. He missed Thomas. He was one of the few Jimmy felt he could have good conversations with without feeling like he had to dumb himself down, or keep his more mean thoughts to himself. 

He opened the letter quickly, ready to read Thomas’ latest plots to gain all the information he could on everyone in the house, upstairs and down. Complaints about Bates and Carson. Thomas would share what he learned with Jimmy, it’d probably be good for a right laugh. 

He unfolded the piece of paper and frowned at the very first words. As he continued to read his frown grew deeper and started to feel like the blood was draining from his body. He felt faint and a fear started to pound in his chest. He dropped the letter on the bed and jumped to his feet. Grabbed his good brown suit and hurriedly got dressed in it. Then he was clutching the letter and wondered briefly if he was overreacting but then he looked at the words on the page and anger overtook him. 

He hurried down the stairs, heading for the backdoor when he saw the phone. The phone. He hurried to the phone and told the operator he wanted Downton Abbey, not all thinking about the time. It rang and rang and he tapped his foot. Finally a voice filled his ear, an irritable and sleepy voice.

“Who is this?” 

Jimmy froze. What if he was wrong? His heart was pounding. What if he was right? He didn’t want to hear this way, no, no. He hung up and went back to his first plan. He raced out of the house and toward the train station. He’d go to Downton Abbey himself. 

~

It was past 8’clock when he found himself pounding on backdoor and ringing the bell. Jimmy was no the patient type and in this situation he had none and it’d already taken far to long to get here. 

The door finally opened to show Carson’s face his expression irritated and Jimmy watched it grow more so as he recognized him. “Mr. Kent, James, what are you doing here?”

“Thomas…uh… Mr. Barrow…” Jimmy stammered. 

Carson’s expression shifted to something grim and Jimmy felt his heart seize. “Is he dead?” he couldn’t believe he spoke the words. 

“What is going on?” Mrs. Hughes appeared and her expression became guarded on seeing Jimmy. “What in world brings you here.”

“No,” Mr. Carson said. “But he is not at all well.”

“I have to see him,” Jimmy said. 

“Jimmy why are you here?” Mrs. Hughes asked again.

“Thomas, he sent… a letter. Did he…”

“Oh, oh… come in.”

“Now wait a minute,” Mr. Carson started. “He was fired by the Lordship himself.”

“He isn’t here for a job, he is here to see Mr. Barrow… now only a few of us know what really happened, everyone else thinks he has influenza.”

“So he did try…what did he do?” Jimmy barely recognized his own voice. 

“I’ll explain once we’re closer to the dorms,” Mrs. Hughes said.

Jimmy followed her, feeling sweaty and clammy. His heart pounding in his ears and fear growing. If he? What would Jimmy say? That letter? 

“He’s been sleeping a lot, but his color’s come back a bit and he’s been talking to Dr. Clarkson some…”

“How did he?”

Mrs. Hughes stopped short, turned and looked at him from a few steps above him. “Jimmy what did he send you?”

Jimmy looked at the letter. He seemed to have stayed in his hand. He’d read a million times and came to same conclusion every time though he’d been hoping not too. “A goodbye.”

“Oh, dear. Very well, up we go.”

Before Jimmy knew it was at Thomas’ door. He swallowed, he wasn’t ready, he didn’t know what to even do or say. He couldn’t be anywhere else though, he couldn’t. 

“I’ll go…”

“Mrs. Hughes, I need to do this alone. It’s…” he held up the letter. “Private.”

Mrs. Hughes nodded. 

Jimmy watched her walk away and when he was sure she was gone, he knocked on the door and held his breath. He heard nothing so he opened it and stepped it. It was bright sunny day and so the room was lit with a bright light. Thomas was on his back in the bed and somehow he looked small. He was pale, too pale not all his usual complexion and his face looked worn. Sleep wasn’t giving him peace. 

Was he mad he’d somehow been saved? Jimmy stepped forward, realizing Mrs. Hughes never told him how Thomas planned to end his life. He walked closer, grabbing his chair, the one he always sat in when he visited Thomas before. He pulled it much closer to the bed this time and looked at him. 

He was so still. Jimmy swallowed. Was he breathing. Jimmy watched for the rise and fall of his chest but couldn’t be sure, his vision seemed to swim and he went to rub his eyes to realize he was crying. He inhaled then and reached out, putting a hand on Thomas’ chest, right on his heart. 

It thudded against his palm. Slow and steady. Jimmy released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed feeling Thomas’s heartbeat under his palm. His eyes drifted to Thomas’ face, always sharp cheekbones but they seemed sharper now and not in a good way. Jimmy inhaled sharply, his gaze taking in Thomas fully and he saw bandages around his wrists. 

“No.” He reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it closer to him. It was his injured hand, not covered by the glove. Jimmy stared at the wound for the first time. Seeing the hole the bullet made, the scarring and he was amazed he never heard Thomas complain about it. It had to have given trouble. Jimmy sighed and his eyes went down to the bandages, he knew what was underneath, stitched up vertical gash. “Thomas…”

Jimmy looked back toward his face and wished he would wake up. He seemed to be not breathing again, so he lent forward without thought and put his head to Thomas’ heart. He heard the thumping in his ear, felt the vibration against his cheek. He was alive, he was alive and he would stay so. He squeezed Thomas’s hand, still in his and couldn’t bear to lift his head. Thomas’ heartbeat was all that was keeping him from falling apart. 

“I’m not leaving, not until I’m sure…”


End file.
